My three-year-old crashed just before dinner after playing all day with her cousins at my parents' house. I hated to wake her, but I knew she needed to eat. This picture brought to mind a poem by Eugene Field:
Last night, my darling, as you slept,
I thought I heard you sigh,
And to your little crib I crept,
And watched a space thereby;
Then, bending down, I kissed your brow —
For, oh! I love you so —
You are too young to know it now,
But sometime you shall know.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
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